Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Saint
Iwas right back there, hurling through the sky in darkness punctuated only by flashes of lightning and sickly sparks as the plane’s electrical system tore apart.
The sudden cold and the screams of terror were all around me, the lashing rain and ripping metal.
My small body was tossed around like a branch whipping in the wind.
The only thing holding me to my seat was the tight belt around my waist.
Not everyone wore a belt. Bodies and small bags were flung everywhere as the dying drone of the plane’s engine whined louder, then softer, then louder again. “Papa!” I shouted as my Papa flung out an arm in a vain attempt to protect me.
I saw his pale, determined face in a flash of light, and then everything went dark on impact.
I thought I could still hear the moan of the single engine that hadn’t been smashed to pieces when we hit the field a quarter of a mile from the airport, but with a start, I realized that was me.
The sounds swelling up from my lungs were harsh and pitiful.
The rain that beat down on my naked back wasn’t the same from the storm that had brought down the plane.
I wasn’t a terrified child strapped in an airplane seat, his papa’s arm across his chest like he had the power to stop death from taking his boy.
“It’s okay,” a gentle voice said right next to me on the ground. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”
That voice was inside me as well as next to me. It was calm and warm. The arms that embraced me, albeit awkwardly, weren’t my papa’s, but they were just as comforting.
“You’re okay, Saint,” Linus murmured again, resting his cheek against my shaking shoulder. “I’m right here. It’s just a storm. It can’t hurt you. I’m not going to let it hurt you.”
There were no words for the emotion that welled up in my heart and spread like liquid gold through the rest of my body, all the way out to my fingers and toes.
I’d never known such quiet affection, such gentle surety.
I twisted slightly to lean into Linus’s body, clutching him in a desperate embrace.
As clumsy and potentially overwhelming as my gesture was, Linus still felt steady and caring through our bond, like he’d been waiting his whole life to show me the comfort I needed.
Another flash of lightning lit the sky, and a few seconds later, thunder rolled. I tightened my grip on my omega, but he didn’t shrink away or leave me. The compassion coming through our bond only grew, imbuing me with the belief that I really would be okay.
“We need to get back into the house,” Linus said, nudging me so I would stand. “This storm is nowhere near over.”
I nodded and pulled myself together enough to stand.
More than that, without thinking about it, I picked Linus up, cradling him in my arms and carrying him toward the back porch like he was the one who had needed rescuing and not me.
It seemed backwards, but carrying him felt like carrying the wounded child that I’d once been.
The house was quiet once we stepped through the back porch door into the den, dripping wet.
I could only assume that Fenn was upstairs with Lucas, who must have been in the midst of another heat wave.
I didn’t like being downstairs in the open rooms, so I carried Linus straight up to his bedroom, so glad to shut the door behind us.
“Are you okay?” Linus asked once I set him on his feet again.
I blinked at him as my thoughts coalesced again. “Haven’t you been telling me I’m okay this whole time?” I asked, my voice rough with emotion still.
Linus smiled, but it wasn’t mocking or unkind. “You’re okay,” he said, relief and affection radiating from him. “Stay right here while I fetch some towels from the hall closet.”
He turned and dashed back out to the hall. A sick feeling of loss pulled at my stomach as I watched his lithe body disappear around the corner, but I could still feel him. I stopped myself from going after him and forced a few deep breaths while waiting for his return.
I’d had flashbacks before, but none that strong for years.
There were no words to describe how terrifying it was to find myself back in that place of death and pain.
After all these years, that part of my brain still remembered it all vividly and tormented me with the whole thing.
It wasn’t fair, it infuriated me, but there was not a damn thing I could do about it.
I drew in another breath and forced myself to focus on my body and the present, like I often counselled patients to do.
It didn’t really help, though. I was safe and whole and a grown man, not a child, but I stood naked and dripping on Linus’s carpet, my heart still beating fast, shame and embarrassment starting to rush in as the adrenaline of the moment left.
What kind of alpha and protector was I if I fell apart over something as ordinary as a thunderstorm?
“Hey, hey, now,” Linus said, coming back into the room with an armful of fluffy towels in pastel shades.
He shut the door behind him with his foot, then rushed to the bed, dumping the towels there.
“None of that,” he said as he grabbed one from the top and came over to wrap it around my shoulders.
“Fear and sadness I can accept from you,” he said. “Shame and guilt aren’t allowed.”
My brow shot up. How did he know—
But, of course, it was the bond. I couldn’t hide from my omega. I’d spent twenty years hiding the worst of my trauma from everyone around me, but I couldn’t hide it from Linus.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing another towel from the bed and using it to dry me off from the waist down. “You might as well talk about it, because I can already feel your feels.”
I huffed a short laugh and slowly started drying my top half with the towel he’d given me. “You’re good at this,” I said, giving myself time to come back to myself.
“Good at what?” Linus asked from where he crouched in front of me, drying my calves.
A rush of lust hit me as I looked down at him.
His position and the way he stared curiously up at me was as sexual as it got.
He was still in heat, and I could still feel my rut because of it, but there was so much more going on.
So much more that was ten times as intimate as fucking his face and filling him with my cum.
“Taking care,” I said, pushing the lust to the back of my mind. The moment wasn’t right.
Linus laughed softly and continued drying my feet before standing and using the same towel to dry himself. “I teach six-year-olds,” he said. “I know how to wipe noses and tie shoes and fix boo-boos.”
That made me smile even as it tugged at something in my heart. “Am I a six-year-old, then?” I asked.
Linus made a point of looking straight at my cock, which hadn’t gotten the message about not being aroused. “Um, no,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes.
Fuck, I loved him. It made no sense, but I did. How could you feel a soul like Linus’s, be bound to it intimately, and not fall in love with him?
I let out a breath, trying to release the tension of my flashback with it.
My smile vanished. “We were on our way back from vacation,” I said, wanting to exorcise the things that had irrevocably changed me as fast as possible.
“There was a storm. The pilots should have diverted or circled until conditions were safer, but they didn’t.
I don’t know all the details, but lightning struck the plane, the windshear was bad, and probably a few other things.
They lost control and we crashed in a field a quarter of a mile from the runway. ”
“I’m sorry,” Linus said, tossing his towel aside and taking my hand to walk me back to the bed.
We sat there together. I still had the towel over my shoulders, and I took his hands in both of mine.
“My memories of the crash are patchy. I remember before, the turbulence and the fear. I remember my papa throwing his arm across me to stop me from coming out of my seat. Then I have a blank spot. Nothing I’ve ever been able to do has brought back the memory of impact and of about ten minutes after that. ”
“I’m sorry,” Linus said, snuggling closer to me and pulling one hand out of mine to comb his fingers through my wet hair. “What do you remember after the blank bit?”
I swallowed hard, both wanting to embrace that memory and run away from it.
“I remember huddling with Fenn, the two of us clutching each other in the wet grass and rain about fifty yards away from the plane. I remember sirens and flashing lights, the smell of smoke and metal. I remember looking for my dad and papa but not finding them.”
“Did you ever…see them again?” Linus asked quietly, still stroking my hair.
I shook my head. “It’s probably for the best. From what I discovered years later, a lot of the bodies were mangled or burned.”
I felt a jolt of horror from Linus that matched a lot of my own feelings. “Did you have someone to take care of you after?” he asked, adjusting so he could hold and soothe me even more.
I drew in a breath, telling myself it was time to let go of those memories, and twisted to face my omega.
“Yeah. Fenn and I were taken in by my Aunt Margery. We were raised alongside our cousins, Melinda and Kevin. They all loved us like we were their own and did everything they could to help us heal from the trauma. Fenn was too young to remember much of it and adjusted better than me.” A punch of guilt hit my gut as I said, “I’m still messed up because of it. ”
“You’re not messed up,” Linus insisted firmly. “You experienced something far beyond what people should ever be forced to go through and you came out on top.”
I laughed humorlessly. “Funny that you say that, because topping is one thing that helps me keep my emotions under control.”
Linus smirked. “I get it. You’re a Dom so you can feel like you’re still in control of things.”
I blinked at him. “How did you know?”